


Trail of Kisses

by ceedee



Series: It's in the Scrapbook [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: But like tame for explicit?, Chris sees Caitlin doing a kegstand and is overwhelmed, Everyone's a girl, F/F, cunnulingus, explicit - Freeform, genderbent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:56:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceedee/pseuds/ceedee
Summary: In which Caitlin helps Chris put makeup on.Caitlin does a kegstand.Chris finds something new to add to her mental list of Favorite Things About Farmer. (Top 30 easily)Overall, Christina Chow is overwhelmed. But she plans on doing something about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Friday. I swear I didn't set out to write porn, but oops here we are. oh no. *vaguely flails*  
> Feed me prompts.<3

Caitlin is the best girlfriend ever. 

Chris and Caitlin are in the shared Haus bathroom, Chris perched on the lip of the sink, while Catlin stands between her legs, brushes and applicators held between her fingers and lips. Chris is giggling because every time Caitlin comes near her with the mascara wand her eyes begin to blink and water out of control. So Farmer has to use her thumb to press at her eyelid to gain any sort of traction. So Chris grabs the PBR they’ve been sharing to sip at. (Because Chris is not allowed to start drinking by herself because all it takes is one can for the flush to set in, and her words to start slurring. So Caitlin, best girlfriend ever, agrees to split all drinks before the party with her.)

Chris is pretty indecisive when it comes to makeup. She’s nothing against it, it’s just always taken up too much time to try and learn. So she never learned how to use it on herself. 

Caitlin. Caitlin looks gorgeous with her face all done. (Not that she doesn’t look gorgeous without makeup. Makeup-less Caitlin is one of Chris’ top 25 favorite things about Farmer.) But Caitlin always spends part of her mornings (when she doesn’t have practice) cleaning her face, applying eyeliner and mascara, and foundation and lipstick. Chris is lucky if she remembers to hop in the shower. The lipstick though, the lipstick makes Chris go weak in the knees. Catlin in lipstick makes Chris’ brain go to mush because she can’t decide if she wants to kiss every last inch off until her face is covered with it, or just openly gawk at the perfect shape of her girlfriends lips. So she’s usually left standing there, mouth slightly open when she sees her girlfriend for the first time of the day, and the perfect shade of dark red is stained onto Caitlin’s lips. This frequently happens in the kitchen while Chris is trying to help Erica clean up, and Farmer walks in the door, and Erica looks over to lightly smacks Chris’ mouth closed with a soapy spatula. Once she managed to get a photograph.  
It’s in the scrapbook. 

So Caitlin is standing between her legs, mascara finally applied before she breaks out a small stick of what looks like fancy chapstick.  
“Mouth open.” She coos, hand moving down to cup her jaw. Chris never stood a chance with this girl. On the fancy chapstick goes, followed by a nude-colored pencil, tracing the curves of her lips. Caitlin pulls back to look at her work, before leaning in to press a kiss to Chris’ mouth. She glances in the mirror, and there’s the gentle imprint of Caitlin’s lips against her own, there for everyone to see.  
Not that anyone wouldn’t know. Chris has a spattering of hickies against her collarbone from last night, visible under her loose tank top, that Caitlin can’t stop staring at.  
Caitlin takes her favorite shade from the sink counter, and opens the tube slowly. She’s starting to run low. Chris makes a note to buy her another. Maybe a shade of gold too. Caitlin would look amazing in gold. Or maybe teal. And they could wear it on Sharks game days and match. They would be even cuter then they are now. Chris is smiling to herself and hasn’t even noticed Caitlin trying to get the lipstick on without smudging it everywhere.  
“All done,” She says, grabbing the PBR, taking a long pull. She does it all without smudging any on the lip of the bottle. Absolute goddess. Chris needs to find a shade of gold for her to wear.  
She hops off the sink, spinning around to face her reflection, Caitlin pulling her against her front, while finishing the last of the beer.  
Chris looks at her appearance, “Ooh! So pretty!” She exclaims, leaning closer to get a better look in the mirror. Her girlfriend just tugs her closer, plastering herself along her back.  
Caitlin has outdone herself. Her eyes are delicately framed by greys and charcoals, her complexion evened out, and the bright red make her lips stand out.  
In the mirror, two identical smiles gleam back.

The party is now in full swing. Ransom and Holster are arguing in the corner about the playlist.  
“Dude we cannot change the playlist! We agreed to commit!” Holster yells.  
“Bro, that was hours ago, the vibe is totally different we have to keep up with the times,” Ransom is approximately three cups of Tub Juice in, so her vowels are all slurred.  
“Dude we agreed. Hours ago. Playlist changing always kills the party. Always. Leave it be.”  
Ransom looks down at the floor, scuffing her tennis shoes against the floor. “One Ke$ha song?” she mumbles.  
Holster looks up to the ceiling, heaving a sigh of disappointment, “One Ke$ha song and it’s back to the playlist.” But before the words are even out of her mouth, Ransom is running to the laptop to queue up the next song.  
There’s some new girls crowding Erica in the kitchen dying for pie recipes and Erica is flushed (all the way down to her toes if Chris had to guess) at all the attention she is getting.  
The Men’s soccer team has tried to make their way into the Haus, and normally the Women’s Hockey team is totally down, the more the merrier, but the team had totally catcalled and harassed the Women’s Volleyball team on one of their morning runs, so they’ve been blacklisted from all Women’s sporting events. Recreational included.  
So, in response to their douchebaggery, Lardo has challenged them to a game of survivor flip cup, right there on the porch. They win, they get to cross the threshold. Lardo wins, not only are they forever banned from the Haus, they have to volunteer at the next Volleyball game to do whatever the team needs. Five of their best bros against Lardo.  
They don’t stand a chance.  
Chris watches, one arm around Caitlin as she nuzzles into her shoulder, entranced as Lardo takes them down one by one.  
Erica gets it all on video. It’s on twitter instantly.  
Wandering back to the interior, Caitlin wanders off in search of a beer, and Chris pokes her head into the living room. Dex and Nursey are perched atop the couch, one leg up and arms bent to the sides, like they’re in Karate kid or something.  
“Um…guys?” Chris tries. She is immediately shushed, and the sound is lost over the bass of the music, but they get the point across anyway. 

There’s chanting coming from the back porch so Chris follows the noise. 

And her jaw drops.

Because there’s Caitlin. Gorgeous, perfect Caitlin. Doing a keg stand. Holster and Ransom have one leg each and from her point of view, Chris can see the expanse of bare stomach where her form fitting blouse has rucked up.  
Chris remembers when Caitlin bought that shirt. They’d been at Target, for no real reason and somehow had left with an armload of clothing, stationary and $1 bin goods. It happened every time. The shirt in question was black, sleeveless and the v-neckline of it obscured by small strings that laced it up. Caitlin’s cleavage looked amazing in it. And Chris was more into ass than tits herself. But Caitlin Farmer’s cleavage was one of the top 38 things about her that Christina Chow couldn’t get enough of.)  
But Caitlin’s stomach. There was something inspired about it. Smooth, hard planes from how hard she worked.  
And maybe Chris should put the Solo cup down, because there were definitely tears in her eyes and she really did not want to ruin all Caitlin’s hard work. No matter how inspired her girlfriend’s hot body was. Before anyone could notice, she ran into the closest bathroom. Glancing in the mirror, nothing was running yet. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, careful not to smudge any of her girlfriend’s hard work.  
There was a sharp knock.  
“Chris? Babe you okay in there?” Caitlin’s concerned voice rang out. “Erica said she saw you run off. Let me in babe.” The concern in her voice was heart-breaking. Chris loved her girlfriend so much.  
And Christina Chow was nothing if not an opportunist. Quickly opening the door, she pulled Caitlin in by the wrist before pushing her up against the slamming door.  
“Babe, what’s…” but the question was cut off by Chris as she slotted their lips together, pressing one leg in-between Caitlin’s. “Oh,” she muttered between kisses.  
Their lipstick was smudging, but that didn’t matter one bit because Caitlin was shivering beneath her fingertips, and her shirt was rucking up once again and Chris just wanted to get her hands on her, her tongue, her lips, her teeth, anything. Falling to her knees wasn’t a conscious decision. But Caitlin was there beneath her hands, shaking in pleasure, hands gripping onto Chris’ shoulders so she pushed the offending fabric out of the way and began to nip and suck at Caitlin’s hip bones, and her stomach, and the soft flesh right below her belly button and Caitlin gasped at that.  
She leaves behind a trail of what's left of her lipstick, marking where she's been. It's a beautiful sight. Chris let her tongue dip underneath the jeans. Those perfect jeans that hugged Caitlin’s ass beautifully. It had been too long since she had that ass in her hands (approximately ten minutes ago when they were standing on the porch together. Chris has slipped one hand into Caitlin’s back pocket.).  
So there Chris was. On her knees, tongue on her girlfriend, hands on said glorious ass. And Caitlin was gasping above her, already falling to pieces. So there wasn’t anything that Chris could do but undo the button of those jeans, pulling them down to Caitlin’s knees, and mouthing against the black cotton panties she found there.  
Because Caitlin is amazing. Everything about her. The way she listens to Chris when she’s on a tangent of a tangent, and hugs her good morning, and walks with her to class when she can, and shows up with ice cream during finals and watches Sharks games together, and twirls a pen between her knuckles when she’s trying to concentrate, and kisses Chris breathless, and the way she smells, and tastes and feels against Chris’ skin. Caitlin is intoxicating, and Chris thinks she’s had a very lucky life indeed that everything here has led to this moment, kissing and touching Caitlin.  
Chris nudges the panties aside with one finger, other hand already back to one of (definitely at least top 5) its favorite places, reaching out with tongue just to taste Caitlin. And that makes her gasp aloud, shoving one hand into her mouth. Caitlin is always trying to be quieter and sometimes Chris wishes they had a place of their own where she could wring all of the noises possible out of Caitlin. There are plans for the day that the house is finally empty with just Chris and Caitlin inside.  
Her finger comes away wet, and she smiles into the cotton, mouth kissing at the lips in front of her which just spur her on – pressing small kisses, longer and longer until her tongue reaches out, parting lips so she could kiss and taste. A quick glance upward and Caitlin is biting into her hand, so Chris keeps at it, alternating kisses with short flicks of her tongue against Caitlin’s clitoris. Then she circles around it, and Caitlin’s knees begin to quake against Chris’ shoulders. So she pulls off for a moment, kisses and mouths against her thighs, sucking delicate bruises into the flesh.  
Caitlin tangles her fingers in Chris’ short hair, tugs at it in a pleasant way that sets Chris humming, and back to the task in front of her. She gropes at the firm muscle beneath her hands, stroking broadly with her tongue, hard pressure against Caitlin, and her hips buck against Chris’ face, slightly mashing her nose. But Chris couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. Because gripping hands and shaking knees only mean one thing. And her hips are thrusting faster and faster in increments, the hand at the back of her head griping tighter, and Chris thinks at this point she might just be along for the ride, so she holds her tongue in firm, steady strokes, and her entire world is just slick and flesh and Caitlin. Caitlin who loses her rhythm and is coming apart beneath her.  
Chris doesn’t move until the hand at the back of her head loosens. At which point, she shimmies the jeans back up, kissing across hipbones, and stomach, and sternum, and cleavage, and worries her mouth against Caitlin’s neck. Caitlin doesn’t always like kissing after oral, which is no skin off Chris’ nose when there are so many other wonderful places that Caitlin can kiss.  
Caitlin places a hand against the side of Chris’ face so they can look into each other’s eyes. All the lipstick has been smudged off, and resides all over Caitlin’s body. When she smiles her eyes crinkle a little bit, and she leans in to kiss softly, gently, a little fucked out, before whispering “Want to take this upstairs?” into Chris’ ear.  
Chris’ only response is to hold open the door, after Caitlin has finished composing herself in the mirror, using some toilet paper to take off the rest of the red on their faces.

The fine jar is in the doorway when they walk out, the rest of the party distributed to other areas of the house.


End file.
